


I found a boy

by onyourleft084



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe (where everything is better), Bisexual Bucky, Boys Kissing Boys, Bucky With The Good Hair, Date Night, Fluff, Issues, M/M, Mac & Cheese Night (courtesy of Sam Wilson), Pietro Lives, Romance, RustedSilver, Side Effects, Social Anxiety, Two-Part, Unlikely Pairing, YOLO, because who doesn't love that, birthday celebration, chocolate cake, crackship, dont expect any smut, experimental dynamics, experimental ship fic, mini-ship, non Canon, pansexual Pietro, that could potentially get bigger, the Ex-Hydra Club, the Plums Incident, these boys I swear, wanda is best wingman ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7365607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/pseuds/onyourleft084
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Pietro, a (highly unlikely, bizarrely unexpected, awkwardly initiated, pleasantly surprising) love story in two parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. there's something about Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> How to get over thirst for both characters? Pair them together, of course. My first work for this pairing. Written as an experimental piece similar to [ some planets have two Suns ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5733766)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A question. An invitation. Plums. Mac & cheese. And chocolate cake.

Bucky moves into the Avengers compound, and for the first couple of weeks he tries to get a handle on his new teammates. It's not that he doesn't want to make friends, it's just that-- well, given his extensive, convoluted and somewhat painful history, it's pretty hard.

Steve is okay, of course. Steve's always okay, always there for Bucky. He's glad he has him back now, otherwise attempting to function in this world would drive him crazy. Sam's okay, too; once Bucky gets to know him. Colonel Rhodes seems to be okay as well. Natasha would be okay, if only she didn't remind Bucky of so much, if only she didn't represent something too familiar-- a chunk of history that he doesn't see reflected in Steve. They have a similar past. Their paths may very well have crossed during the Cold War. But Nat found a way out; she started over. And Bucky?

Bucky was dragged back into the ice, to start over again in a more painful way but never really _move on._

She's a relic of a bygone era refitted and developed for a new age, and she feels pretty far away from him.

So he tries to work on getting to know the others as well, taking it one member at a time instead of trying to fit in with all of them all at once. But you don't pick up a lot of people skills if your only interaction with them over seventy years is following orders and putting bullets in brains.

Not to mention, some of the Avengers are a little beyond Bucky's comprehension.

There's Vision. In his assessment of the Avengers, Bucky usually skips trying to understand this one, focusing only on the essentials. Android. Synthetic. Mind gem, whatever that is. Sentient. British accent. Red and green 'skin.' Next.

The twins, he's told, were Hydra experiments too. And soon it seems to him that not all things Hydra creates end up monsters, sometimes they are miracles. There's Wanda. She's got a power set Bucky has never seen before, and honestly, it's still a little hard for him to believe. It's difficult to comprehend as well, but at least Wanda looks like a normal human being should. Besides, she is kind.

Then there's Pietro. He moves fast. He does what he wants. He questions orders. He never sits still. He can't be contained. He won't be controlled. And for some reason, his hair is white.

You don't see that color on a man that age very often. It reminds Bucky of trampled snow, or of crushed hail. Or of wisps of clouds in an otherwise still sky. He wonders why it's like that.

Then it occurs to him that that could be a very good conversation starter, so one day, he asks.

Pietro is quite honestly taken by surprise, and self-consciously runs a hand through his hair, the topic of discussion, and Bucky finds he likes it. Why the hell does he like it?

"It used to be brown, like Wanda's," Pietro explains, and for once, he is slow to speak. "When we first came to Strucker to...you know, to be...well, yeah--" he clears his throat, "He put us through a lot of testing. Different kinds, different levels of exposure to the scepter. It was a lot of stress." He looks at Bucky-- he makes eye contact, and for a second Bucky freezes, not like he used to get frozen, but he freezes in a _good way_ \-- "There were side effects."

"The shock turned your hair white," mumbles Bucky.

"Wanda freaked out. She was ready for us to quit when she saw what happened to me," Pietro says with a soft chuckle, and Bucky cannot for the life of him imagine how anyone can possibly chuckle, can possibly move the fuck on from something like that, and he should know how hard it is. But this is Pietro; he's impossible. "I didn't, though. I wanted this so badly." He becomes somber again. "I didn't even know what I'd end up with. So at the end, when I found out I could move fast, I thought..." He shrugs, "could be worse."

Bucky is prepared to close the conversation and leave, thinking Pietro just answered him out of politeness, but again Pietro surprises him. He surprises him by talking, holding Bucky for just a few more minutes longer, and Bucky can't help but stay and listen. His accent, he realizes, makes it an interesting experience.

"Wanda got her powers first, did you know that?" the younger man-- and he is, so much younger-- carries on, with a casual grace and candidness that Bucky has always envied. "At first she wasn't sure if we should, but I talked her into it. Sometimes I think I pushed her, you know?" Pietro's tone carries a tinge of regret. "She felt better about it after her abilities came through, she was so excited by what she could do, even if they were hard to control at first." He smiles, a smile like the sun chasing away storm clouds. "I was so proud of her for that. She's always been strong for both of us. I got excited to see what would become of me after, I didn't care how hard it would be."

"There's always a price with these things," Bucky hears himself saying, and Pietro looks up.

"Yeah," he says. "I guess. Like I said, it could have been worse."

There is a moment-- a real moment-- when their eyes meet and Bucky's not sure if he can read Pietro's because he hasn't had much practice looking people in the eye, but one thing is for sure: those eyes, they don't know the meaning of fear.

 

* * *

 

 

"What do you think of Bucky?" asks Pietro, lying in bed that evening with his feet up on the headboard. On the opposite side of the room is Wanda, on her own bed, brushing her hair.

"Bucky, Steve's friend Bucky?"

"No, Bucky from the orphanage in Novi Grad." Pietro rolls his eyes and sits up, "Of course, Bucky Steve's friend."

Wanda shrugs. "He's okay."

"You ever looked into his head?"

"No, that would be rude."

Pietro stares up at the ceiling. He doesn't know what to make of the encounter with the super-soldier earlier, if it was somehow uncomfortable or awkward. It should have been, but Pietro...enjoyed it? Appreciated it?

"We talked today," he tells Wanda.

"Oh yeah?" She puts the brush down. "What did you talk about?"

"He asked me why my hair is white."

Wanda laughs. "Oh, my God. He did? I don't know why I find that funny. It is so cute!" she grins at Pietro.

Pietro grins back, "He was just curious, I guess."

"So what did you say?"

"I told him everything." He pauses. "You know what he said?"

Wanda makes a wry face, "What?"

"'There's always a price with these things,'" Pietro recites. "That's what he said."

Wanda shrugs again, now impressed. "That sounds very wise."

"He might actually be very wise," says Pietro. "He's lived over a hundred years and through all sorts of wars, you know."

"Yes," Wanda says, "I know." Then she asks, "So what do you think of Bucky?"

Pietro doesn't say anything for a while. He lies back down and folds his hands over his stomach and looks up at the ceiling.

"He's not bad," is all he says at last. "He's actually just a guy."

"Mm-hmm."

"He actually has very nice eyes, have you noticed?"

Wanda looks up. "No, I have not noticed."

"Well, he does," says Pietro with a slight smile. "They're blue."

 

* * *

 

 

Steve knows his friend needs time, so he tries to give it to him, refraining from coercing him into hanging out with the others if he doesn't want to. After all, Bucky's good in the field; confident, reliable, consistent, obviously used to taking orders. When things wind down and the Avengers come home at the end of another day saved to bicker and squabble and tease, an inevitable phenomena that occurs whenever too many people who are too different live in under the same roof, that's when he's not so sure of himself. That's when he doesn't know how to function.

A couple months after he moves in, Sam puts 'Mac & Cheese Night,' to be held every second Tuesday of the month, into effect. The first Mac & Cheese night is a delectably messy affair, as could only be expected with any cooking that Wanda and Vision are even remotely involved in, and the smell draws every Avenger away from whatever they were doing and into the dining room.

On his way up, Pietro speeds past the open door of the armory, where a single light indicates that someone's still down there. He backtracks, finding Bucky cleaning his guns. Pietro watches him disassemble the parts carefully, methodically, as if it's second nature, and maybe it is. Those hands, one metal, one an ordinary flesh color, work with precision, almost gently, as gentle as a man like him can afford to be.

He taps on the door, left ajar slightly. "Hey."

Bucky looks up, eyebrows raised in slight surprise, "Hey. Uh, what?"

Pietro jabs a thumb over his shoulder, "Mac & Cheese? Don't tell me you don't want some of that."

"Is that what that smell is?"

"Yeah," says Pietro with a grin, as if it should be obvious.

Bucky shakes his head. "You know, I'm actually good. Thanks."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Pietro makes an impatient clack with his tongue. "Everyone's up there except you."

Bucky tries not to look at him, smiling down at the pieces of his gun instead, running the parts through a greasy cloth. "It's fine, really it is."

"Hm," Pietro exhales. He can't keep still; he's already pacing in a small, tight loop outside the door. "Suit yourself."

A gust of wind, a streak of silver, and he's gone.

 

About an hour later, still in the process of cleaning guns, Bucky receives another visitor. Steve opens the door, holding a bowl of Mac and cheese.

He places it in front of Bucky. "Making sure you get some, 'cause it's going real fast." He looks around, "You know, I underestimated how many guns you actually had."

"So did I," says Bucky, glancing at the ones he has left to take apart, inspect for maintenance and put back together again.

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. "Have dinner, Buck. You don't have to have it with us, I understand that. But...just have it." He gestures to the bowl. "It's good stuff, you won't regret it."

Bucky nods. "It actually smells great. Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Steve says, exiting the armory. "Thank Pietro. He insisted."

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky stays apart from everyone. Pietro's always noticed that, but only now it starts to bother him. He's not sure why it bothers him; maybe it's that glimpse of a person he saw that day when Bucky asked him about his hair that makes him think he shouldn't have to be alone. So he likes it when he sees him in the same room as the others, even if he's just talking to one person at a time.

He notices that Bucky likes plums, and that the plums are always the first to go from the fruit bowl in the common area.

The next Mac & Cheese Night comes, and again the dining area is crowded, noisy, messy. Again Bucky avoids the trouble. He finds something else to do in the armory and only sneaks upstairs to grab a plum, but when he reaches into the fruit bowl in the dark and empty common room there are no goddamn plums when he was _sure_ there were still some goddamn plums and it feels like a bad dream. It annoys him, irrationally, because it's become like an unspoken rule in the HQ that _the plums belong to Bucky._ He's wondering who could have possibly taken them when somebody joins him.

"Looking for these?"

Pietro's got two plums in one hand, holding them up as he's standing in the doorway to the dining room, which is already packed.

"Actually, yeah," Bucky says, wary of why Pietro would be fooling around with him; but there's a lot behind the guy's behavior he can't explain as it is. He's not sure whether to find it amusing or annoying at the moment; after all, his plums are involved. "Can I have them now?"

Pietro's grin is mischievous, aggravating. "Why don't you join us outside first?"

"Still don't feel like it."

"Aw, come on."

He sighs. "I think it's better if you just leave me alone."

Pietro shrugs. "Do you really want to be alone?"

Bucky's frustrated at how he's unable to answer, but the uncomfortable look on his face must get through to Pietro somehow, because when he speaks again, his tone is softer.

"Join us. You're an Avenger too."

Bucky just shakes his head. "Too many people."

Pietro makes an offended noise. "You never have that problem in the field."

"That's not the same." He looks away, unsure of how to feel. Bucky doesn't want to join the others for dinner, but at the same time, he doesn't mind if Pietro, only Pietro, even if he did take his plums, stays with him. What kind of feeling is that? This is nothing he was ever trained for.

"You think they'll be scared of you?"

Bucky tries to look Pietro in the eye. "Don't I scare you?"

"I've technically come back from the dead. Nothing scares me." Pietro scoffs. Then he says, "You know we're not so different?"

"What makes you say that?" _We are different, kid. You're liquid metal, always moving and flowing, and I'm rusted, sedentary. I can't change._

"All this," Pietro says, gesturing to himself, and for a second Bucky's attention is caught by the long-sleeved top that hugs his torso so unbelievably well, "the stuff Wanda and I can do came from Hydra too. Like you." He puts his hands in his pockets. "So I don't mean to be rude, but you're not the only one with issues."

He starts to walk away, but Bucky says "I didn't ask for mine."

Again Pietro shrugs. "Just because we signed up for ours doesn't mean it still didn't come with baggage. Side effects, remember?"

He runs a hand through his hair again, gives Bucky a meaningful look and speeds off.

Bucky is left alone, like he wanted, with only the plums on the table for company.

 

* * *

 

 

Pietro leaves him be, for the most part. He's told off by Wanda shortly after the Plum Incident, admonished that perhaps he has, as usual, been rushing things. Just because Bucky straight-up asked him what was up with his hair didn't necessarily mean he's ready to be completely social. She tells him he needs his space for now.

"I know that being around so many people at once can be overwhelming," Wanda says, "even if you're not telepathic."

She's right; she usually is about thoughts and feelings and those kinds of things. So Pietro backs off. He doesn't talk to Bucky or try to get him to join the next Mac & Cheese night.

But he does insist on keeping some left over for him, and he does always anticipate the night Bucky might actually be ready to show.

There's a week when, a couple of months later, things get crazy hectic. The team is split up to fly different missions across the world then, so they don't see a lot of each other.

  
Bucky and Steve's mission takes longer to complete than expected, so they're the last ones to come home; at the end of the week, in the dead of night when the headquarters and quiet and everyone's well into their long-overdue rest.

Steve goes to bed almost at once, murmuring a tired but appreciative goodnight to Bucky and heading upstairs. Bucky heads for the fridge.

When he opens it, he finds, among other things, two sloppily-cut slices of chocolate cake in a plastic container labeled 'For Steve And Bucky.' And that's how Bucky remembers, and realizes, that they've missed the twins' twenty-third birthday celebration.

He takes one slice of cake and carries it to the common area, intending to eat it in peace on an empty couch, but he finds that the room is not empty and the couch is taken by a long, lean form with silver hair illuminated in the dim light.

"Pietro?" It occurs to him he's never said the name before. He tries not to trip over the unfamiliar syllables but finds himself managing the pronunciation anyway, perhaps something left over from when he used to speak Russian and not English. "Why are...why are you up?"

"You mean why am I still up?" mumbles Pietro. "Well, uh, call me childish, but...I can't exactly sleep well if I'm alone in the room."

"Why? Where's Wanda?"

He chuckles softly. "Stargazing with Vision."

Bucky enters the room further. This is too weird for him. He hasn't spoken to Pietro since the Plum Incident, though he's wanted to, and now it's a little awkward.

"Hey, uh, happy birthday," he mumbles. "I'm sorry we missed it."

"It's fine. Glad to have you guys back. How'd it go out there?"

"Nothing we haven't seen before." Bucky takes a chance. "Can I join you?"

Pietro looks a little surprised, but he says "Sure."

He folds his legs so Bucky can sit on the opposite side of the couch. Bucky takes a bite of the cake, and it tastes delicious. Pietro watches him, and he's not really sure what keeps him watching, but it must be the movements of Bucky's jaw, or the way he keeps his head bowed forward slightly, or the fall of his long hair over his eyes.

He finds he likes the color of Bucky's lips.

"Are you okay?" Pietro asks, unexpectedly.

Bucky looks up. "I'm...fine. Why do you ask?"

Pietro just shrugs. "To be honest, I'm never really sure with you. You don't exactly...talk."

He hopes he hasn't crossed a line, like he came so close to with the Plum Incident, but Bucky actually says "I'm fine. I promise."

"Well, good."

There's a pause. "I think you're wrong," says Bucky.

"About what?"

"When you said we weren't so different." Bucky looks right at him. "We are different. We may have come from the same place, but you came out, I dunno, better."

Pietro chuckles. "Thanks. That's nice."

"You fit in okay with the rest," Bucky mumbles. "Make it look so easy."

Pietro leans forward. "Is that what's keeping you apart from the others?"

Bucky doesn't answer.

Pietro exhales, kind of impatiently, kind of sympathetically. "You know, it was hard for us at first. Going back to Novi Grad after we got our powers. Our neighbors, the people we lived next to for years, they looked at us different. With fear."

"How'd you deal with that?"

"We helped," Pietro says simply. "We showed them we were still people, even if we were different now. We got their trust back." He looks at Bucky. "You were right. There's always a price with these things." He pauses. "But sometimes, I think, the debt wears off and you get to go be whoever you want to be."

Bucky shakes his head. "I think I might just be another old man too set in his ways to change."

He can see a twinkle leap into Pietro's eyes. "Not that old."

From the window they can see Wanda and Vision walking together down the concrete path to the HQ, a spring in both of their steps. Bucky can't be sure in this light, but they seem to be holding hands.

Pietro gets up. "Yeah, that's my cue to go."

Bucky stands too, having finished the cake. He turns to Pietro.

"Thanks," he says simply.

Pietro smiles. "For what?"

Bucky shrugs. He gestures with the plate, "Cake. Talk. Mac & Cheese. Asking me to hang out. Even if I don't always have the most favorable responses." He looks up, "I know it must take a lot for a guy who always moves so fast to be so patient with an oldster like me."

He expects some sort of flippant, even sarcastic, remark, but again, Pietro doesn't do as he expects. He actually softens, becomes more somber and tender as he moves closer. Like he might actually give a shit, like he might actually _care_ about Bucky.

"You know," Pietro says, "Steve really wants you to be a part of the Avengers. Not just the team, the...whatever this is. The family, I guess." He folds his arms, as if trying to keep warm. "He really does. You'll try, right?"

Bucky nods. "I will. If that's what he thinks."

"Don't just do it for him," says Pietro. He lingers for a bit, then says, "Goodnight, Bucky."

He leans in and kisses his cheek, and is gone in a blur before Bucky can say or do anything. A few seconds later, a dull, faint crack informs him that he's gripping the plate so hard with his metal fingers that it's broken in half.

And rather than feel annoyed, or violated, or even confused, Bucky realizes that he actually feels...good. Solid. Certain. Safe.

Pietro, he thinks, really is some kind of miracle.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky takes what he said to heart. The next time Mac & Cheese Night rolls around, he decides to participate.

You can't go into a war without backup, and even if this isn't a war, Bucky looks around for the ones he knows won't let him down. Steve is there, of course, welcoming Bucky with a smile, telling him he's glad he came, handing him a bowl, and already the knot in Bucky's stomach loosens. Then Sam's coming up to him with a clever remark and Bucky finds himself snarking back and when Sam laughs, he starts to think _hey, this isn't bad, I can do this._ He nods at Nat, smiles at Wanda, thanks Vision when the android serves him a bowl of steaming macaroni, and eats.

Pietro sidles up to him, broad shoulders and blue eyes and a gentle grin, and for a second, Bucky's thrown.

"Hey," he says. "So here you are at last. I'm glad you came."

Bucky can see Steve smiling from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," he replies, returning the grin. "So am I."

 

 

 

 

 


	2. this is not so bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, Bucky is reintroduced to the concept of YOLO

Wanda can read minds. It's her thing, her specialty, but she prefers not to anymore. For one, it's rude. For another, it can get pretty embarrassing and uncomfortable when she goes too deep.

But sometimes, she can't help herself. And when she finds herself sitting next to Bucky on a Quinjet on the way to their next mission, she also finds her mind drifting towards the surface of his, and what she gleans is, to put it lightly, interesting.

But not exactly surprising.

Bucky faces her for a second and says "Hey, you okay?"

Wanda tries not to scream and instead assures him, "Yeah, I'm good."

 

* * *

 

 

"He likes you," she tells Pietro, once they've completed their mission and returned to base. She tells him in a roomful of tired and irritable Avengers, speaking in Sokovian so only they can understand each other.

"Huh?"

"He." Wanda says slowly, gesturing with her head to Bucky, who's rifling through a medkit some yards away. "Likes. You."

Pietro's eyes go wide. He grabs her and whisks her up the stairs.

"What? How do you mean?"

"You know how I mean!" Wanda says, rubbing her arm where Pietro has grabbed her too strongly. "He thinks you're remarkable. He thinks you're different from everything he knows. Your hair is fascinating and you're...sexy," she mumbles, the words tumbling out awkwardly. "I mean, I'm just trying to put his emotions into words."

"Oh, so you did read him!" Pietro says.

"Only a little! On the surface level. Which means," Wanda says, putting her hands on his shoulders like this is something very important, and it is, "if you're on the surface of his thoughts, he must like you a lot, but of course, he's not making any moves."

Pietro says, "I don't know what to do."

"I know what you should do," smirks Wanda. "You should take him out and have some drinks. And then make out."

"I--" Pietro pauses.

Okay, now that actually sounds like a good idea.

After all, Bucky. Bucky with the good hair and the metal arm. Bucky with the brooding look and impeccable jawline. Bucky who looks amazing in tight long-sleeved shirts and likes plums and who struts with a vengeance and cleans his guns like a father dressing his child for school, who is far more than a soldier and a weapon but someone who might just get what it feels like to try to turn your life around after you did bad shit. Bucky is not bad. And the last thing Pietro wants is for him to feel isolated and unwanted.

On the other hand, you know, _Bucky_. Bucky with the issues. Bucky the walking human jar of bad dreams and unsavory experiences. Bucky, who's got gaps in his memory that maybe shouldn't be filled, and who still sometimes keeps his distance from everybody else because he _knows_.

 _Well, so what?_ Pietro thinks.

"No," he says anyway.

"Why not?" Wanda almost whines. "You just came back from a near-death experience, Pietro. I want you to get laid!"

"It's too strange," he says helplessly. "He is a fellow Avenger. He's probably not ready. He's so much older than me, and...well, you know what he used to do--"

"There isn't a rule against dating team members-- yet," says Wanda. "And while there isn't one, I suggest you do what you do best: move fast!"

"How are you sure that I like him back?" counters Pietro.

She shrugs. "I just do. I always do with you! When you feel things, even if you don't know you feel them, somehow it just flows into me. You like Bucky," Wanda says, her tone slightly teasing this time. "Besides, it hasn't always been just girls with you, it's guys and everything else, too. You're always down to fuck."

He stares, "What is with your attitude lately? See, this is what I was scared of about us moving to America..."

Wanda laughs, but not condescendingly, more like in a 'I-love-you' sort of way. "You do like him, right?"

Pietro doesn't have to say anything; she's already said it.

She touches his arm, "Talk to him. It will be easy. You like him; he likes you..."

"But there's something in the way," mumbles Pietro. "He holds back, he always does."

Wanda smiles. "But I know you won't."

 

* * *

 

 

In this day and age, Bucky's not sure how the rules work. Sure, men can be with men now, that's what Sam says, but he's not sure how the rules apply to him. He's a special case, after all, what with the brainwashing and the delayed aging and the metal arm.

But, as he should have suspected, the rules have never bothered Pietro before.

"Bucky?"

The double syllables reach his ears, as Bucky is making coffee-- one for him, one for Steve. He turns around to see Pietro there, leaning his elbows on the counter.

"Oh-- hey," he half-stammers. "Yeah, Pietro. What's up?"

Pietro looks everywhere else in the room except at him. "I was just wondering if...I was thinking..." He pauses. "Steve said you guys always liked to go dancing and drinking, when you weren't on duty."

Bucky smiles; a real smile this time. "Yeah, I think I might actually remember some of that. Why?"

It seems that his smile has encouraged Pietro, because he goes on with more confidence. "Well, Wanda and I-- actually Wanda and Vision, found this new club that opened in Manhattan, and I know you've never, uh, been to one of these modern ones, but maybe you'd like it?" He shrugs. "So, uh, if you'd like to go...if you'd like me to take you there..."

"Hey, guys." Steve enters the kitchen and stops. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Pietro clams up in the face of their leader, and Bucky somehow finds it incredibly, inexplicably endearing. To him, Steve is just Steve, a good friend, a brother in arms, that no genetic enhancements or spangly outfits can ever change, and he just holds a hand up in front of Steve's face and says to Pietro, "Go on" because goddammit, _he has to hear what he's gonna say._

Pietro's eyes dart between them for a second but he says, very quickly, "Ifyouwanttogetsomedrinksandseethecityletmeknowandwecangotoge--" he catches his breath, "--Together."

Steve raises his eyebrows.

Bucky doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say.

Pietro just shrugs. "Well, think about it." He pulls an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, takes a bite, and speeds off.

Bucky's brought back to reality by the feeling of Steve's hand on his shoulder blade. "Buck. What was that?"

"I'm not sure," Bucky mumbles.

"I think," Steve says slowly, "Pietro just asked you out on a date."

Bucky just sighs.

Steve gives him a searching look. "I know this must be new for you." He takes over making coffee, knowing that Bucky's the one who needs the care this time. "Things are a lot different now compared to when we were growing up. I'm not really sure Pietro understands that. If you like I can talk to him about it." Steve pauses. "Unless, you know."

"Did I ever used to like guys?" Bucky mumbles.

Steve tries not to chuckle. "No, you never did." He hands Bucky a steaming mug. "But you're a different person now, Buck. Do you like guys?"

Bucky looks up. "I know for sure I like this guy."

There is a look of pleasant surprise on Steve's face, and he nods. "Okay, then."

"Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Bucky has so many reasons. Because Pietro is much younger. Because Bucky has only ever been in relationships with women, and this time, this particular person, is so different to what he's used to. Because they're both in a line of work that puts them in danger every single day. Because Bucky couldn't bear it if he unpacked his baggage in front of him and it ended up scaring the kid away. Because they're too different, in spite of what Pietro once said to Bucky with two plums in his hand and a cocky grin on his face. Because Pietro deserves better.

But he looks at the empty counter and remembers Pietro leaning on it, white hair and blue eyes like two pieces of the sky that somebody saved in a tall jar and labeled 'miracle', and it occurs to him that Pietro doesn't want better, he wants Bucky, and he always means what he says.

And all the reasons, all the reservations, start to melt away.

 

* * *

 

 

Pietro and Wanda watch one of those classic American movies together in the recreation room. They make a big bowl of popcorn and put on Sokovian subtitles. Halfway through the film, Wanda falls asleep with her head on his lap.

Pietro consumes the rest of the popcorn slowly, focusing on the film and trying not to think of a certain someone with a metal arm.

Speak of the devil.

"Pietro?"

He makes a small jump start at the sound, and turns his head around to see Bucky standing in the doorway. In the dimness of the room, his dark bangs partially obscure his eyes, and in his silhouette against the light of the hall beyond the doorway Pietro can make out the perfect shape of his arms and torso.

"Oh, it's you," he manages to mumble.

"Yeah. What you said earlier, about going out to that club?" Bucky pauses. "That sounds great. I'd love to do it."

Pietro sits up. "So..."

"Tomorrow night," says Bucky in a soft, almost gentle murmur. "Is that okay?"

His smile almost brightens up the whole room. "Yeah. That's okay."

"Great," says Bucky, smiling back, and then he's sidling off quietly, leaving the twins alone again.

Something bubbles up, warm and happy like a newly-opened champagne bottle, in Pietro's chest.

On his lap, Wanda stirs. She says, "Did I miss something?"

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky wears purple, a simple long-sleeved polo shirt that buttons up the front and fits well around his broad shoulders. His first choice was charcoal grey, since he knows for certain that he doesn't _not_ look bad in that, but Sam is outraged at his lack of imagination and even Steve convinces him to consider a different color. "Purple," Sam says, and Bucky makes a face, but he forgets that there are several different shades of purple that people have gone through the trouble of naming since there was no longer a war to fight, and the one they pick out for him is a deep, rich hue that he thinks is too good for him. Then it's a pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a pair of cuff links. Bucky can't abide the fuss.

"I'm not sure I'm worth all this," he says, looking at himself in the mirror. He's come a long way from bulletproof vests and protective face masks.

Steve stands next to him and smiles smugly. "Of course you are."

Pietro throws a sports vest over everything and wears his customary trainers, effortlessly stylish without even thinking about it, although Wanda insists on combing his hair back. She is frustrated when it won't stay down. Pietro recalls their father having a similar problem, their mother in a similar state of frustration as Wanda is now. He wonders what they would think of all this. Of Bucky.

He assumes that, as any parents would, they would want him to be happy.

The first ten minutes of their date is spent picking out a sports car from the garage at the Avengers' disposal-- each a classic vehicle that once belonged to Tony Stark, that he had bequeathed to the team with his blessing in favor of a set of newer models. Pietro zips around, opening all the doors and sitting in the driver's seat of every one testing it for comfort, and Bucky, laughing, tries to keep up. They finally choose an old, shiny Ford model from around the year Pietro and Wanda were born, which to Bucky doesn't seem like very long ago.

He drives, wrapping his hands around the wheel. It seems fairly similar to when he used to drive girls around before the war, yet Pietro is a more vibrant presence than anyone Bucky has ever met. He guides him through New York City, which has definitely changed, but the change isn't so overwhelming or terrifying when they're side by side.

The city is different, new, unique. So is Pietro. And so is Bucky.

He's excited to get to know how all of them fit in together.

They park across the street to the club, called Excelsior, and it's _classy_ \-- all neon lights and young bodies dancing frenetically to a kind of music Bucky has never heard before.

"Wow, check that out," is all he says.

"You like it?"

"So far!"

Pietro grins. "Follow me."

He drags him to the bar first, and Bucky almost takes forever going down the long list of drinks and trying to choose one. They decide to get two of everything, starting with a tray of shots, and begin what ends up being the biggest tab the Excelsior has received so far since its opening.

"Name?" asks the bartender.

Pietro grins. "Just put it under Tony Stark."

Bucky shakes his head as the bartender leaves. "Oh my God."

"Oh my God, what?"

"Just-- you," Bucky can't help but say, gesturing to all of Pietro with open hands. "You're incredible. You just do whatever you want."

Pietro shrugs. "What else am I gonna do, if not what I want?"

That honesty! Bucky nearly calls out 'mayday!' because damn, he's falling, and he is falling hard.

"It's just sort of new to me," Bucky says with a small chuckle, unable to take his eyes off his gorgeous date (because that's what Pietro is right now: gorgeous, and his date. Bucky, you lucky son of a bitch.) "I guess I got used to taking orders. But I promise, I'm gonna watch you all night learning how to do things just for fun again."

"This is the new world, Bucky," says Pietro with a reckless grin. "I think you have only ever seen the bad parts. But there's good parts too. There's this place," he says waving a hand at their stimulating surroundings, "and there's this amazing city and there's all of our friends, and there's so much else we both don't even know about yet."

"Sure, there's that," Bucky amends. "But honestly? I think you're the best of all of them."

Pietro's eyes are brighter than he's ever seen them. "That's really what you think?"

"Hell, yeah. I mean, you're the proof that no matter how badly people like Hydra try to wreck things, there's always some good that comes out of it."

Pietro regards him amusedly for a few seconds as the first of their drinks arrive. He takes the moment to ask, "I'm not _too_ young for you, am I?"

"I don't really care," Bucky admits.

Pietro grins. Then he proceeds to down fifteen shots in ten seconds.

Bucky's staring in shock.

Pietro gets up and grabs a fistful of buttons on the front of Bucky's shirt and pulls him close and gives him the biggest, most mind-blowing kiss of either of their entire lives, and it tastes of vodka and recklessness, and just as Bucky thinks he's about to fall over on the bar stool Pietro pulls away, and Bucky's enhanced hearing can pick up a steady humming coming from beneath Pietro's vest and he realizes two things: that's Pietro's heart, pumping at ten times the rate of a normal person's, and the fact that he can hear it shows just how close to him Pietro is standing.

He's not sure how this is supposed to work. It feels too sudden, too soon-- he's never even thought that far ahead into the night, but Pietro has, as usual, and as usual, Pietro does what he wants.

"Shit, I'm gonna need another ten of these," Pietro says, almost embarrassed, reaching for the tray again.

Bucky grins, "What is it with you and taking shots, anyway?"

It's a risky, outrageous pun, and it takes Pietro a second to realize that. He points a knowing finger in Bucky's direction and sarcastically says, "Ha, ha. You are funny." He pauses, then looks at Bucky as if realizing something, as if seeing him for the first time. "Hey, you're _funny_. I like you."

 

* * *

 

 

They make sure to finish all their drinks. Between a super-soldier and a speedster with hypermetabolism, it's not even close to enough to making either of them tipsy. Pietro makes a game of the rest of the night: make Bucky laugh. He succeeds. Bucky's laugh, honest and barely used, reminds him of thick ice breaking, of the rusty gears of an old machine returning to life. He realizes he'd give anything to keep Bucky laughing.

They finally exit the club, and Bucky has his arm, his metal one, draped around Pietro, and Pietro leans into him and he fits perfectly where the arm meets the shoulder.

"We're so weird," is all Bucky says as they head down the sidewalk.

"Hey, we're not so-- yeah, actually," Pietro admits, "we're a little weird. I did come back from almost certain death after all."

"So did I."

Pietro sniggers. "We're both on our second life."

"I think I might be on my third, actually," Bucky remarks. They stop, right beneath a street lamp, watching the traffic light on the other side of the road for the sign to cross. On the street, everything is moving at snail's pace, inch by inch, and Pietro just thinks it's regular traffic until he looks at Bucky and watches him blink in slow motion, eyelashes like gold dust under the yellow lamplight. Absolutely fucking beautiful.

Pietro snaps out of speed mode, and the world returns to its normal pace. "Sorry," he says.

"For what?" Bucky says, confused.

"For a second the world was moving really slowly," Pietro explains. "It happens sometimes. Side effects, like I said."

"How do you work around them?"

Pietro puts his hands in his pockets. "I guess I don't. I just live with them."

Bucky shakes his head, and the old reservations come back before he can stop them. "I have some side effects, too. Nightmares. Triggers. Flashbacks. Some parts of my conditioning, sometimes they just kick in when they shouldn't. I don't know if--"

"If I can handle them?" Pietro says bluntly.

"No," says Bucky. "I don't know if I'm good enough for you." He forces himself to face Pietro directly. "I mean, are you sure you want me? Even with all this?"

The look on Pietro's face is nothing short of offended. "Fuck, yeah."

"Why?" asks Bucky helplessly.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" says Pietro, unable to believe this guy. He walks back and forth a bit, trying to come up with a decent answer that makes sense, "Actually, it's not that complicated. You said, even if Hydra does bad things there's always some good that comes out of it." He stops dead in front of Bucky. "You know what I think? Even if Hydra does bad things, _they can't take all the good away_. And I know this because... Well, they failed to do it with you, Bucky."

"James," Bucky manages to say.

"What?"

On the opposite end of the street, the 'pedestrian crossing' sign comes on, but Bucky completely ignores it. "That's my given name. Call me James."

He moves forward, pressing his lips to Pietro's, kissing another man for the first time in his life, and just like that, it's away with the old and in with the new. He runs the fingers of his normal hand through Pietro's hair, like trampled snow, or crushed hail, or wisps of clouds in an otherwise still sky, and Pietro's got his fingers digging into Bucky's shoulders as he kisses him back, refusing to be outdone.

When they break apart Pietro whispers "James" very softly, almost tentatively, and even his accent makes it sound different.

Bucky nods. "Yeah."

"I meant everything I said."

"I know you did."

"Don't you ever, ever think you're not good enough for me."

Bucky smiles. There might be tears in his eyes. Maybe. "Okay."

They make it back to where they parked, arm in arm, and Pietro is kind of in a daze, not just with the adrenaline of the kiss but with the promise of Bucky's, of James', hand in his, a different kind of security to what he feels when he's around Wanda.

For a few seconds, they sit in the car, quietly, just taking it all in. Bucky cannot believe how his luck has turned around. He puts the key in ignition and twists.

"The others are gonna have to get used to this, aren't they?" he mumbles.

"I guess," says Pietro flippantly. "I mean, who would've thought, you know...me and you?"

Bucky nods. They are rusted steel and burnished silver, cold lead and running mercury, the past, the future. And yet, it works.

"As you always say," he says, "could be worse."

"Right." Pietro reclines the seat just a little bit, leans back and folds his arms under his head. He turns to Bucky with a smile. "But this is not so bad."

Bucky returns the smile.

He hits the gas and drives them home.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
